


Physical Therapy. 1/1.

by punky_96



Category: Grey's Anatomy, The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Biting, Elevator Sex, F/F, In Public, Marking, Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.Emily is jealous of Miranda’s orthopedic surgeon, who has been sucked into doing physical therapy in the Runway offices.





	Physical Therapy. 1/1.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pdt_bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdt_bear/gifts).



> Prompt: From an old bingo card here’s: ‘bites/bruises.’
> 
> Fic Auction: dedicated to pdt_bear who generously bid on my fics in the last fic auction that I did. She wanted Callie/Emily and I am going for the prompt in small fics instead of one big one ☺
> 
> Beta: peetsden. Thanks for jumping in, Peet!

**_Physical Therapy. 1/1._**  
  
Callie tilted her head back, until it hit the back panel of the elevator. She shouldn’t enjoy torturing people. True, she was an orthopedic specialist and inflicting pain was often required, but the goal was to heal a person, not drive them to distraction. Besides, she usually prescribed some pain meds to go with the experience. She supposed that since she had somehow become the surgeon and rehabilitation specialist to the stars (or at least to Miranda Priestly) that she had to get her kicks somewhere. It was bad enough that she had to manage the long grind of recovery (which wasn’t actually her job)—that she had to run the fashion starved gauntlet twice a week to get to La Priestly’s office, well, that was a whole other level to sink to.  
  
The red headed assistant had silently insulted her upon their first meeting and followed up with verbal digs.  
  
When Callie noticed the way the already pale woman stuttered when she touched Miranda, Callie played it up. The older woman either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. The red head eventually fell silent, but Callie could still feel her eyes boring into her back as she kept her palm in the small of Miranda’s back as she paced back and forth across the office.  
  
After the seventh week of criss-crossing town and blowing her schedule to pieces, Callie had delighted when Miranda had stopped her in the doorway to her office. They would be doing a session at the editor’s townhouse on the weekend and Miranda had needed to make sure Callie knew the address. “Will the twins be there to help like they did in the hospital?”  
  
The memory of her darling girls hindering more than assisting made Miranda laugh and she was pleased deep in her heart. “No, you have me all to yourself.” Miranda’s voice still held that rumble of amusement, though it had shaded over into playful, flirtatious even.  
  
Callie could swear she heard chanting in the outer office. “Perfect.” She smiled a megawatt smile at her client and with a shoulder squeeze reminded her, “Take it easy and use the cane for support.”  
  
Turning to walk away, she had caught sight of the red head at her desk. When the blue eyes locked onto hers, the assistant had sneered at her and muttered what sounded suspiciously like, “Only temporary.”  
  
Before she could think properly, Callie leaned against the red head’s desk. “She’ll be sore Monday morning. I’d make sure her meetings are all in one place.” When the red head gasped up at her, Callie winked at her and blew a kiss, before sauntering away.  
  
She waited until the elevator was in motion to step all the way back and thump her head against the panel. It was just so wrong to torture that assistant. Callie found that she just couldn’t help it. Her world had been dumped on its head after Miranda Priestly had been brought in for surgery when her car was hit. She didn’t trust anyone else to see her weakness during recovery, which extended even into these twice a week visits at her workplace. Callie understood, she just cursed the world for it having to be her.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Thursday of Week Ten had been a long day. Callie stepped tiredly into the elevator and pondered the fact that she could curl up and sleep on the floor, if she could get away with it, while around her the City That Never Sleeps kept going. The fashion industry, as exemplified by Runway magazine, its editor, and all the minions (including that red headed one) were the poster children for not sleeping. Callie couldn’t believe she’d just pulled a double, with some rest that wasn’t rest (thanks, Sally) and now she was heading up to check on Miranda, still at the office heading right past dinnertime.  
  
A rushing click clack walk and then someone was pushing into the elevator before the door could close. For a second, Callie felt guilty about not having reached for the door. Then as the red head hissed, “A hickey, really?” Callie wondered if she could rewind time just enough to push the woman back out of the door as she reached her scrawny little arm into the gap.  
  
Callie smirked as she remembered Sally’s teeth on her neck as her body pressed hers against the door.  
  
“Tarting it up is not an excuse to be late.” It wasn’t really a statement, but it certainly wasn’t a question either.  
  
Raising an eyebrow at the assistant, Callie wondered what sort of sounds she’d make if she pinned her to the wall of the lift and bit at her neck. She wondered if she would still have to feel guilty about torturing the uptight woman. Callie supposed it would depend on what sounds the woman was making, or perhaps whether or not she was clawing at her. Shaking her head at this line of thought, Callie conceded that neither would be an indicator of torture response, since they were the woman’s normal way of interacting with the world. She supposed the true indicator of whether it would be torture or not, would be to see how wet the red head was when Callie finally released her.  
  
“Jealous much?” Callie wondered out loud as the woman continued to stare at her.  
  
Closing her eyes in a huff, the woman muttered, “Temporary.” Then she began to whisper a chant that sounded suspiciously like, “I love my job.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Monday afternoon of Week Fifteen, Callie hoped that by arriving just after lunch that she would bypass the First Assistant torture guilt magnet routine and simply be waved in by the Second Assistant with the wide Mid-West smile. The doors began to shut when a hand wildly slapped at them and a column of boxes wavered into the gap. Callie held the door open this time and then had to bite her lip as the red head tottered in behind her boxes, muttering, “Thank you. Oh, hell. I hope they are running late. Who thought I should have to carry all of these?” The woman’s body settled against the back wall of the elevator with the boxes obscuring the view except for the long, tapered fingers under the box edges, the long legs in black hose, and the feet encased in tall wine red heels. “Seventeen.” There was no please, but then again there was no hissing either.  
  
Amused, Callie hit the button to get the lift going.  
  
Some feet above the twelfth floor and well below the seventeenth, the elevator shuddered and then juddered and then dropped once, twice, and held still. The boxes fell to the ground. The red head glimpsed her companion and her eyes bulged. The lights went dark.  
  
“Stuck with her.” Callie heard the words, as she heard what was likely to be the woman’s hands going up to her face in a panic.  
  
In the dark, the assistant couldn’t see her roll her eyes, so Callie in no way felt guilty about it. “What the hell is your problem?” Callie stayed where she was, so that she wouldn’t trip on the boxes. “I’m here to make sure that Miranda can walk properly again. I’m doing my job. You have been nothing but insulting since day one.”  
  
The assistant sucked her teeth and then sullenly admitted. “I insult everyone.”  
  
Even in the dark, Callie could spot the lie bundled up in the truth. “My best friend, Addison, reminds me of you. They call her Satan, when they aren’t using her proper title, Ruler of All That is Evil.”  
  
The assistant shifted, moving boxes with her foot. “Of all the ridiculous.”  
  
Callie forced a laugh. “I know it’s ridiculous, because your boss, Miranda, she’s the Devil in Prada, so my friend couldn’t possibly be Satan.”  
  
A thump against the wall of the lift sounded a lot like when Callie hit her head back against it in frustration. Smirking, Callie wished she could see the other woman. “I’m in hell.”  
  
Something heavy dropped on the top of the lift, which scared a scream out of them both.  
  
The lights came on and they winced.  
  
Then nothing and silence once again.  
  
Callie moved over a box and she was almost in the assistant’s personal space. “You’ve the same natural bite and hiss as they do. I’m not sure if you’ve earned a nickname yet.” Callie stepped forward again and leaned on one hand against the back of the lift over the red head’s shoulder. “The thing is, they generally have a reason for their barbs. I think you do, too.” Callie let her eyes trail over the features of the red head’s face, down the column of her neck, and then over the curves of breasts where they were almost touching each other. Then Callie brought her eyes back up to her companion’s blue ones. “Why me?” She breathed against the pink lips in front of her own darker ones.  
  
“You’re beautiful.” Squeaked out before Emily could censor herself. It was quiet, but Callie was close enough to hear. “You’re friends with Miranda.” This jealousy was louder, more forceful. It was true, though it was being used to try to over shadow the previous confession. “You’ll go away and I’ll.” The red head forcibly bit her lip to end the sentence. As punctuation went it was effective, even if not grammatically correct. Her eyes closed as well, as if to block another sense from betraying her.  
  
“Emily.” Callie uttered her name like a plea. “Emily, open your eyes.” Callie willed the other woman to comply. “I don’t have to go away, if you don’t want me to.”  
  
It was the first time the doctor had said her name and the assistant locked her blue eyes on those dark brown ones that had haunted her thoughts for almost four months. “Cal.” She swallowed the syllable. “Doctor Tor.” Again, she stopped. Formality and insults had been taken away from her, but it didn’t seem right to use her first name.  
  
With a crooked smile, Callie brought her free hand up to stroke the red head’s face. “I’m not your doctor.” Her dark eyes searched Emily’s blue ones. “Say my name, please, say my name, Emily.” The last plea was almost a whisper.  
  
Swallowing in a vain attempt to control some part of her body, emotions, and thoughts, Emily tried again. “Callie.”  
  
Leaning forward, Callie pressed her lips against those pink ones that she had been thinking about for far longer than she’d like to admit.  
  
Emily pushed away from the elevator wall and they stumbled as they kissed and let their hands wander. The fashion boxes didn’t stand a chance, if they were in the way. Emily nipped along Callie’s jaw now that she had been given permission, until she could suck at the pulse point. She restlessly kissed and licked across Callie’s throat to the other side and then up and back to Callie’s mouth. Settling against the wall, Callie pulled one of Emily’s legs up to her hip and pressed it to stay there. The smaller woman wanted to lead the dance of where they were. Perhaps, she thought that having Callie against the wall put her in charge.  
  
Letting Emily keep that thought in her head, Callie leaned her head back against the wall with a thud as her fingers unerringly slipped under the red head’s raised skirt and against the soaking wet panel of her panties. “Oh.” Callie moaned as her senses told her of her partner’s arousal. Emily’s teeth pinched the skin of her neck and Callie moaned louder. “You’re drenched.”  
  
Rocking her hips forward, Emily switched to the other side of Callie’s throat and began to give it the same treatment. Callie’s fingertips were a delicious tease and her body continued to reach for more without a conscious decision on her part.  
  
Feeling teeth on her neck again, Callie shifted so that her fingertips now held Emily’s head by the back of her hair. “Marking me over and over, when I haven’t even claimed you yet.”  
  
Emily whined as her body pressed forward looking for the tantalizing touches that had gone missing. “Callie.” She pouted as she felt her knee hit the back wall as she stretched up in front of her lover. “Take me. Claim me.” Emily strained against the steady hold Callie had on her hair, but her hands only reached up to stroke against Callie’s shoulders and down over her chest.  
  
Leaning forward, Callie teased at Emily’s throat, not marking, but deliberately playing. When Emily’s hands turned to fists in the front of her shirt, Callie tried to not smirk against the red head’s skin. She released her hold on her hair and quickly dropped her hand down to the thin strip of soaked fabric covering Emily’s sex.  
  
Teasing a fingertip along the edge of the fabric between Emily’s legs, Callie murmured. “As soon as I sink into you knuckle deep, the elevator is going to move.” Tracing a few lazy circles over the covered bundle of nerves, Callie continued to tease along the other edge of lace. “You’ll be covering me with your body, moaning shamelessly as you ride my fingers, and you’ll only have about thirty seconds to come before those doors open.” Emily’s body trembled against hers sending her own arousal into over drive. She let her fingers push the fabric aside to gently explore the wet folds of Emily’s labia. “Miranda might be standing there. Waiting for us. When the door opens. She would see me claiming you as my own.” Callie watched her companion panting hard enough she might pass out.  
  
“Callie.” The red head breathed out as her body continued to tremble and press into Callie’s touch.  
  
Acting on her dirty talk, Callie asked, “Can you come in thirty seconds, Emily? Hmmm.” She pressed her mouth and nose against Emily’s cheek as she concentrated on her fingers against Emily’s body. She added more to her thrusting and adjusted her thumb, so that it would hit the over sensitized bundle of nerves as they frantically moved.  
  
“No, no, no, nonononono…” Emily wasn’t sure if she meant that wasn’t enough time or she would be horrified if Miranda saw them or if she really wanted Callie to stop or if she was praying to the elevator gods to not fix the metal box they were confined in.  
  
Picking up her pace, Callie shifted so that her mouth was on Emily’s throat and her teeth were teasing her pulse point. “You will come, when I claim you.” She ordered against Emily’s skin.  
  
Incoherent sounds tumbled from Emily’s mouth, as her body shook and shivered against Callie.  
  
The elevator began to move upward and she groaned, out of her mind with pleasure and dread.  
  
Callie bit down on her throat hard enough to stake her claim as she pressed her thumb hard against her clit. Breathing in, Callie held it, burning in her lungs, for many long moments. The feral movements of Emily’s body jerking in hard pulses had her full attention as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of Emily’s release. At least one of them had to be somewhat comprehensible when the lift lumbered into place on the next floor available. Long seconds later, Callie felt Emily’s palms push lightly against her shoulders and she lowered Emily’s leg, so she could stand on both wobbly legs. Callie couldn’t have timed her seconds any truer with a watch as she wiped her fingers against her pant leg and then scrambled to pick up boxes.  
  
Just as the elevator did its usual up and down upon arrival at the seventeenth floor, Callie thrust boxes against Emily’s chest forcing her into their reality. Callie had the other boxes and she stepped out onto the Runway floor with a smile for Miranda. “I think Emily had too many boxes for the lift to handle.” She held them aloft for her client to see. “You ready for our session, Miranda?”  
  
Callie didn’t look back, but she could sense Emily trailing behind them with the other boxes and what remained of her sanity. Callie would bet her Knicks tickets that Emily hadn’t started her morning quite that way in a long time, if ever. She knew on the way out today that she’d leave her number with Emily. It wasn’t like she could stop long enough to ask for the red head’s number. Miranda might be friendly with her, but when it came to focus on her work, well she really was the Ice Queen.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
It took two days for the red head to call and then two more days in order to make their evening schedules work together. After dinner, Callie smirked at the red head. “Wanna come to my place?” She clicked her teeth together in a biting motion that sent a visible shiver through the red head’s tall frame. “I like elevators, but there’s something to be said about the privacy of home.”  
  
The elevator doors had closed, though the carriage hadn’t started moving yet, when Emily’s lips were on Callie. Not really one for holding back, Callie let her fingers assess the access that the red head’s outfit provided. As her fingers slipped into the front of Emily’s trousers, Callie let her head rest back against the wall. Her fingers were in a heated heaven and Emily was kissing and sucking along her jaw and down her neck. She couldn’t wait to stumble out of the elevator and into her apartment.  
  
The sensitive skin on her throat felt a pinch and Callie hissed. Her free hand came up to hold Emily’s head just far enough away from her skin that she couldn’t mark her again. The bruises from their first encounter had barely faded.  
  
Shifting her fingers, Callie drew a moan from Emily.  Then she pulled her hair so that Emily had to look her in the eye. She felt as the woman yielded to her touch with a second moan, while she watched the blue eyes dilate until they were almost completely black.  
  
Sensing that their time was running out, Callie held Emily’s head still as she slowly brought her fingers up to her lips to lick and suck.  
  
“Cal.” Emily whimpered out the single syllable, before the elevator dinged and came to a stop. Behind her the doors slid open and she wondered what they looked like. She wondered if anyone was there to see them. Her body shivered as she realized that she’d like to see them if possible.  _A mirror_. Her brain supplied to complete the picture.  
  
With a smirk, Callie released the red head. Stepping around her, Callie murmured, “Let’s find out what else you like, hmm?” Her dark eyes glittered with dangerous promise.  
  
Emily’s knees wobbled and she nearly stumbled as she followed the dark woman down the hall.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Kissing until they were several feet into her bedroom, Callie began to unbutton Emily’s blouse. She would kiss swollen lips and then the newly exposed skin as she continued to reveal the smooth skin of her lover. Feeling trembling fingers on her own clothes, Callie smirked and turned her lover to face the full-length mirror. She tugged the open blouse down Emily’s arms, until she could pin them in place with some careful tucks of fabric. Standing behind the tall woman who was trembling with desire, Callie licked and sucked at her neck and down over her shoulder as she pulled the bra strap away.  
  
“You like to bite.” Callie murmured as she caught Emily’s eyes in the mirror.  
  
Emily whimpered and licked her lips again.  
  
Callie switched to the other shoulder and strap. “I like to watch.” She kissed and sucked at the skin up and down the curve of Emily’s neck.  
  
The press of Callie’s body against her own caused Emily to lean back into the heat.  
  
Reaching up to Emily’s ear, Callie whispered, “I think you like to watch, too.” She reached around the woman and slipped her fingers into the demi cups of her bra and pulled so that they rested on top of the fabric.  
  
Her red hair mussed, her breasts on top of the bra, and her arms pinned behind her back, Emily tried to breathe deeply. It wouldn’t do any good for her to pass out.  
  
Nipping at the ear lobe, Callie watched Emily watching her in the mirror. With a final tug to dark pink nipples, Callie undid the button at the top of Emily’s trousers, unzipped them and let them fall. They only made it to her knees, but it was an image Callie liked so she left them.  
  
“I like to see my fingers disappearing into your panties.” Callie whispered as she teased in the coarse curls. When Emily whimpered and bit her lip hard, Callie pulled her hand to rest against her hip. “I’d like to see them disappearing into you, even more.” With a quick tug the underwear also bunched at Emily’s knees.  
  
“Cal. Callie. Ohmygod.” Emily wavered on her feet as Callie shifted behind her.  
  
Trailing fingers up the back of Emily’s thigh, Callie watched Emily’s as her fingers caressed her sex. Callie licked and kissed Emily’s shoulder as she touched her from behind. “Yes. You like that. I can tell.” Callie kept up her slow pace as she watched each trembling reaction in the red head who was now struggling to keep her eyes open. “Before I let you come. I need you to tell me why you need to mark me.”  
  
A shocked breath panted out of Emily as her eyes opened wide in shock. “Whut?”  
  
Callie frowned at her in the mirror and slowed her fingers down until on the third slow stroke they stopped almost completely. “In the Elias-Clark elevator you marked me like a woman possessed. I like it, but you were the one that called me a tart.” Shifting, she slowly teased her lover’s pulsing sex.  
  
Emily shook her head.  
  
Callie hummed as slowly stroked against her pale lover. “You’ll never come this way, you know.” She observed quietly. “I want to give you what you want, Emily. So, tell me.” Baring her teeth, Callie lowered her mouth toward the alabaster skin in front of her and pressed her teeth down enough to hint, but not fulfill.  
  
“Fine.” Emily hissed as she rotated her hips trying to get Callie to hit the sweet spot. “A month ago, you came in marked up by some bitch. I was so jealous. You’re friends with Miranda. You’re hot. Oooh, yes. Callie.” Emily almost trailed off as Callie put more speed into her motions. “I wanted to mark you, claim you. Oh fuck! I needed to see my marks on you.”  
  
Callie brought her other hand around to circle Emily’s clit. “You want me to mark you, don’t you?” She paused her hand motions long enough for Emily to blink her eyes and focus on Callie in the mirror.  
  
“Yes.” She called out as she felt Callie’s teeth finally press hard into her skin and then her lips and tongue suck hot and wet around it. Callie’s fingers resumed their attentions daring the single word out into a scream as her body shook through its climax.  
  
Callie felt the woman slump against her and took in the exquisite image of the tall, disheveled woman, passed out from pleasure and held up only by her lover. “I wonder what else you like?” Callie thought as she shifted from the sexual position into one where she could scoop up her lover and carry her to the bed. Her eyes wandered over the nipples jutting out over the lace bra, the shirt pulled down and tangled around her wrists, and not quite spread legs bound by the panties and trousers. ‘Her heels could go,’ Callie conceded as she stepped out of her own shoes and climbed onto the bed next to her lover.  
  
  
_**End.**_  
  
x


End file.
